| Livin that young life
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| Where nothin nice runnin from the vice
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| Think twice you lose your life gamblin with the dice
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| Cuz it ain’t nothin but a ninety thing baby
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| And all the hoes in the Point drive me crazy
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| Can’t fade me
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| If they had a ten-foot pole
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| I stroll down the block givin props
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| To my niggas on the spot
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| It won’t stop and it won’t quit
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| Cuz the hoes can’t fuck with our shit I switch
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| Up on that ass, fast
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| If she try to fade a young nigga she’ll get mashed, bitch
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| It’s just a juice thang, mothafuckin deuce thang
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| Kill that game, but still a nigga maintain
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| My business, my mission I’m lynchin
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| Any mothafucka catch another one of my loved ones slippin
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| I smell jealousy up in the Point
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| But I laugh at the niggas as I blaze up a chronic joint
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| Cuz I don’t trip off them bitch-made niggas
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| Or them gold-diggers, cuz they don’t know my niggas known killers
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| But I guess that’s a victim tryin to earn a stripe
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| And got caught up in that mothafuckin way of life
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| (Mr. Cee)
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| Livin my life man, must be the fuckin shit
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| Cuz nowdays niggas actin like a fuckin trip
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| And punk hoes try to get you lynched by your dick
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| But all you impetrators gonna need a Medic quick
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| Saying this or saying that
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| You might as well be a masseuse cuz ya always talking shit behind my
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| Back
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| Spreadin rumors like tumors
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| And crossin off my face on my poster in your girl’s room
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| And um, I never asked to be the man
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| But the way these niggas be playa-hatin make it seem like I really can
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| But I don’t have to play a role or perp to kick it
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| Just to get a piece of ass or a free meal ticket
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| Now I got a tape and these bustas wanna hate me
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| Just because they girl caught the base and wanna date me
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| But back in the days it was always about my nigga
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| And now you see a brotha comin up then you say his head is bigger
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| But I’m still the same-old same-old
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| The only thing changed was my Levi’s to Girbaud
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| Damn, it just ain’t right
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| But that’s just the shit I have to go through cuz I claim I’m livin
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| The life |